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How an embattled energy storage project in Acton, California, is threatening faster federal permits.

One hour north of Los Angeles, the small town of Acton is experiencing a battery energy storage buildout — and quickly becoming the must-watch frontline in the backlash against lithium-ion energy storage systems. The flashpoint: wildfires.
Like many parts of California, Acton has hot summers with heavy winds, putting it at elevated risk of the kind blaze that makes national headlines. Battery storage fires, while rare, are a unique threat, with relatively little data available about them to help regulators or the public understand the risk. People in Acton wondered: Would they really be safe if a wildfire engulfed a battery storage site, or if a battery failure sparked a new conflagration?
When L.A. County blessed the first battery energy storage system project in Acton last year, developers and local fire officials said they were doing everything in their power to ensure the batteries would meet safety standards. Residents were far from convinced.
“This will turn our community into industrial hell and it’ll erase us from the face of the Earth,” Jacqueline Ayer, a member of Acton’s town council, told me. Ayer is helping lead the local fight against the projects.
I’ve now spent more than a month researching the fight in Acton. In the process, I’ve learned how much — or little — we know about when battery energy storage and wildfires mix. We’ll get to that later in this story. To be honest, debunking battery fire risk wasn’t why I spent a month on Acton. It was what happened when the fears took hold.
Feeling they’d been failed by both the regulatory approval process and the court system, the Acton project’s opponents turned to their representative in Washington, House Republican Mike Garcia. Though Garcia can’t do anything to stop this particular project, he can severely hinder future ones: As Heatmap can exclusively report, after lobbying from Acton, Garcia inserted language into the annual funding bill for the Department of Energy that would block it from implementing a new rule designed to expedite permits for federally funded battery projects.
“What we’re hoping is that [with Garcia] being at the federal level, he’ll shed some light to the people at the top,” said Ruthie Brock of the activist group Acton Takes Action, “because if the top becomes informed, it’ll trickle down to local governments.”
This is why the Acton fight is so important — it demonstrates the risk of failing to obtain community buy-in, which can ricochet in ways no one intended. The political and media environments are quick to sensationalize the downsides of renewable energy, creating a tinderbox atmosphere in which small local fights can quickly become national ones.
On some level, a fight over battery fires going national was inevitable. Across the country, from New York to Washington state, communities are revolting against battery energy storage sites coming to their backyards. Often, those opposed cite the feared threat of fires or explosions.
Fires in battery energy storage systems, a.k.a. BESS, are quite rare. According to what data is available, the number of fires has stayed relatively flat even as deployment has grown drastically. There were fewer than 10 failure events in the U.S. in 2023, and there have been even fewer so far this year.
But when a fire does happen, experts say it can be quite difficult to put out. In some cases, there’s nothing a community can do other than let the blaze run.
“There’s a lack of consensus. There’s a lot of experts out there providing guidance, and that’s something we’re trying to work on with training throughout the country,” Victoria Hutchinson, an engineer with the Fire Protection Research Foundation, told me. “[It’ll] instill some fear in the meantime we figure out the best approach.”
Information on BESS and wildfires is even less available. Guillermo Rein, a professor of fire science and the editor-in-chief of the journal Fire Technology, told me the matter has not really been studied.
“When I say [BESS are] new, I mean really new,” Rein said. “We hardly know how it works when it gets [on] fire and we don’t have many technologies that are proven to work. We have technologies that we wish will work, but proven technologies that work are very rare. That means we have a new hazard we are struggling to understand and in the meantime, we don’t know how to protect against it.”
Los Angeles County approved Acton’s first battery storage system — Humidor, a 300 megawatt project by Hecate Energy — last summer through an expedited “ministerial” process, the local equivalent of a “categorical exclusion” under the National Environmental Policy Act. Ministerial reviews and categorical exclusions are used by regulators to skip the drawn out process of an environmental review because they can reasonably predict a lack of significant impact. Joseph Horvath, a spokesperson for L.A. County Planning, gave me a statement defending the approval and stating BESS projects must meet all local and state zoning and fire codes to receive a ministerial approval.
California had identified the Acton community back in 2021 as a potential site for energy storage to protect against future power shut offs. Acton made sense because it’s close to the SoCal Edison Vincent substation, making it well positioned to connect to the grid. There was also a real sense of urgency: To achieve its goal of 100% carbon-free electricity by 2045, the state estimates it will need to install a projected 52,000 megawatts or more of battery storage. Humidor is the first of what appears to be multiple projects being planned for the area, including two more Hecate facilities according to materials on the company’s website.
Convinced that a battery boom could mix poorly with extreme fire risk, and that the county moved far too fast to approve Humidor, Acton residents sued. The county, they argued, had little reason to conclude the facility would have an insignificant impact on the environment — so few BESS projects have been approved that the county used the standards from a different kind of project — an electrical substation — to draw that conclusion. L.A. County Planning told me they chose this comparison for reasons including the “purpose of BESS and its connection to the larger network for distributive purposes.”
Rein told me that at least when it comes to the fire risk, this isn’t an accurate comparison, and that there’s not actually enough data to claim such a facility would have an insignificant impact. “I would put great efforts into making sure this facility is safe,” he said. “They can’t just say, I met the regulation, I did enough. Because it’s a new hazard.”
Many of those in Acton opposed to the project believe the approval was rushed, and claim that little information was made available to the public as it was going through the county’s process. Furious residents have told county planners that the Acton town council was not notified in advance that an approval was on its way. They testified before the county board of supervisors that Hecate held only a single public meeting to discuss what it intended to build, with little notice given to potentially concerned citizens.
In my experience as a journalist reporting on large energy projects with serious community impacts, transparency is key to getting local buy-in to build a project. For years I covered the mining industry, where innumerable decades of toxic waste spills and labor scandals have forced companies to really innovate and spend serious dough on obtaining “social license to operate,” a term developers and investors use to describe acceptance to a company’s business practices.
This, of course, differs from the YIMBY school of thought that companies and governments should eschew frustrated municipalities to pursue the overriding net good of climate action. There are certainly merits to this argument, especially when it comes to communities that won’t take yes for an answer, and we’ll be exploring case studies supporting that view in future editions of The Fight.
I’m on the fence about whether Acton is one of those cases, though. Ayer, an environmental engineer by trade, told me she supports decarbonization and wants to see climate action happen. She just wants to feel assured the technology is safe.
If it wasn’t a lithium-ion battery storage facility “I would feel comfortable,” she said. “We will shoulder some of the weight. But it isn’t right that we shoulder all of the weight.”
When I tried to talk to Hecate about Acton’s wildfire concerns and how the company had engaged with the community, a company spokesperson, Bobby Howard, declined to make anyone available for an interview citing “ongoing litigation related to the subject.” Howard provided a factbook that said only that Humidor would “meet or exceed” local and state fire codes — without specifying which codes — and detailed some of the outreach the company did, including the public meeting as well as mailers to “thousands of individuals throughout the greater Los Angeles area, including civically engaged individuals throughout Acton.”
Howard declined to answer questions requesting more information about the company’s public outreach and wildfire planning. He did tell the Los Angeles Times earlier this year that Humidor would have “seismic bracing, safety zones around the perimeter, substantial setbacks from parcel boundaries, gravel breaks and a masonry wall around the facility.”
Stanford University senior research scholar and legal energy expert Michael Wara explained to me that in cases like these, having buy-in from the community is important to avoiding litigation and social blowback. “That is losing,” Wara said. “You have not served your client if you end up in litigation.”
“Having a process by which people are informed about a project and have an opportunity to provide input is important for buy-in for all kinds of projects related to the energy transition if you want to build in a democratic society,” he said. “Is it really the fire risk the community is concerned about?”
When it comes to the Acton battery fight, it’s the fears of fire that scare me the most, not the fire itself.
I sought reasons to be optimistic about putting battery energy storage in areas like Acton that are prone to wildfire because, well, California is essentially one big fire risk zone. James Campbell, a wildfire policy expert at the Federation of American Scientists, told me that battery energy storage decreases net wildfire risk compared to gas storage tanks and pipelines. “If we consider the whole-climate trade-offs, battery systems are much safer,” he said.
On its end, Hecate claimed in a letter to the L.A. County Board of Supervisors that a BESS fire has never traveled off-site, and that because the fires are fueled by flammable gasses, there is minimal risk of embers traveling elsewhere and igniting grass or bushes. The company pointed me to this letter when I reached out for comment.
“Nothing about fire risk mitigation is about certainty. It’s more, risk mitigation and fire is kind of like wearing a seatbelt,” Wara told me. “If you’re going 120 miles an hour down the highway and you get in a high-speed collision, your seatbelt will not save you. [But] there’s rapid advances in how these systems work.”
In the end, he added, meeting California’s carbon emissions targets will “probably mean building somewhere that there is non-trivial wildfire risk.”
What’s happening to offshore wind should be a cautionary tale for developers considering whether sinking time and money into community relations is really worth it: Last year, coastal fishermen and beach town mayors in New Jersey joined forces with fossil fuel funding and right-wing agitators to foment a conspiracy-infused campaign against offshore wind that has truly rattled the future of the industry.
Part of that offshore wind backlash grew out of New Jersey Republicans in Congress using the pulpit of their offices and filing amendments to legislation. As Garcia takes up Acton’s cause, I do wonder whether battery energy storage might be next. November’s election makes it less likely his language hindering expedited approvals for BESS projects will make it into the final funding bill, and Garcia’s office did not respond to requests to discuss its prospects.
But regardless, it’s an ember that could become a fire of its own.
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The Army Corps of Engineers is out to protect “the beauty of the Nation’s natural landscape.”
A new Trump administration policy is indefinitely delaying necessary water permits for solar and wind projects across the country, including those located entirely on private land.
The Army Corps of Engineers published a brief notice to its website in September stating that Adam Telle, the Assistant Secretary of the Army for Civil Works, had directed the agency to consider whether it should weigh a project’s “energy density” – as in the ratio of acres used for a project compared to its power generation capacity – when issuing permits and approvals. The notice ended on a vague note, stating that the Corps would also consider whether the projects “denigrate the aesthetics of America’s natural landscape.”
Prioritizing the amount of energy generation per acre will naturally benefit fossil fuel projects and diminish renewable energy, which requires larger amounts of land to provide the same level of power. The Department of the Interior used this same tactic earlier in the year to delay permits.
Now we know the full extent of the delays wrought by that notice thanks to a copy of the Army Corps’ formal guidance on issuing permits under the Clean Water Act or approvals related to the Rivers and Harbors Act, a 1899 law governing discharges into navigable waters. That guidance was made public for the first time in a lawsuit filed in December by renewable trade associations against Trump’s actions to delay, pause, or deny renewables permits.
The guidance submitted in court by the trade groups states that the Corps will scrutinize the potential energy generation per acre of any permit request from an energy project developer, as well as whether an “alternative energy generation source can deliver the same amount of generation” while making less of an impact on the “aquatic environment.” The Corps is now also prioritizing permit applications for projects “that would generate the most annual potential energy generation per acre over projects with low potential generation per acre.”
Lastly, the Corps will also scrutinize “whether activities related to the projects denigrate the beauty of the Nation’s natural landscape” when deciding whether to issue these permits. That last factor – aesthetics – is in fact a part of the Army Corps’ permitting regulations, but I have not seen any previous administration halt renewable energy permits because officials think solar farms and wind turbines are an eyesore.
Jennifer Neumann, a former career Justice Department attorney who oversaw the agency’s water-related casework with the Army Corps for a decade, told me she had never seen the Corps cite aesthetics in this way. The issue has “never really been litigated,” she said. “I have never seen a situation where the Corps has applied [this].”
The renewable energy industry’s amended complaint in the lawsuit, which is slowly proceeding in federal court, claims the Corps’ guidance will lead to “many costly project redesigns” and delays, “resulting in contract penalties, cost hikes, and deferred revenue.” Other projects “may never get their Corps individual permits and thus will need to be canceled altogether.”
In addition, executives for the trade associations submitted a sworn declaration laying out how they’re being harmed by the Corps guidance, as well as a host of other federal actions against the renewable energy sector. To illustrate those harms they laid out an example: French energy developer ENGIE, they said, was required to “re-engineer” its Empire Prairie wind and solar farm in Missouri because the guidance “effectively precludes” it from getting a permit from the Army Corps. This cost ENGIE millions of dollars, per the declaration, and extended the construction timeline while ultimately also making the project less efficient.
Notably, Empire Prairie is located entirely on private land. It isn’t entirely clear from the declaration why the project had to be redesigned, and there is scant publicly available information about it aside from a basic website. The area where Empire Prairie is being built, however, is tricky for development; segments of the project are located in counties – DeKalb and Andrew – that have 88 and 99 opposition risk scores, respectively, per Heatmap Pro.
Renewable energy developers require these water permits from the Army Corps when their construction zone includes more than half an acre of federally designated wetlands or bodies of water protected under the Rivers and Harbors Act. Neumann told me that developers with impacts of half an acre or less may skirt the need for a permit application if their project qualifies for what’s known as a “nationwide permit,” which only requires verification from the Corps that a company complies with the requirements.
Even the simple verification process for Corps permits has been short-circuited by other actions from the administration. Developers are currently unable to access a crucial database overseen by the Fish and Wildlife Service to determine whether their projects impacts species protected under the Endangered Species Act, which in turn effectively “prevents wind and solar developers from (among other things) obtaining Corps nationwide permits for their projects,” according to the declaration from trade group executives.
But hey, look on the bright side. At least the Trump administration is in the initial phases of trying to pare back federal wetlands protections. So there’s a chance that eliminating federal environmental protections might benefit some solar and wind companies out there. How many? It’s quite unclear given the ever-changing nature of wetlands designations and opaque data available on how many projects are being built within those areas.
Dane County, Wisconsin – The QTS data center project we’ve been tracking closely is now dead, after town staff in the host community of DeForest declared its plans “unfeasible.”
Marathon County, Wisconsin – Elsewhere in Wisconsin, this county just voted to lobby the state’s association of counties to fight for more local control over renewable energy development.
Huntington County, Indiana – Meanwhile in Indiana, we have yet another loud-and-proud county banning data centers.
DeKalb County, Georgia – This populous Atlanta-adjacent county is also on the precipice of a data center moratorium, but is waiting for pending state legislation before making a move.
New York – Multiple localities in the Empire State are yet again clamping down on battery storage. Let’s go over the damage for the battery bros.
A conversation with Georgia Conservation Voters’ Connie Di Cicco.
This week’s conversation is with Connie Di Cicco, legislative director for Georgia Conservation Voters. I reached out to Connie because I wanted to best understand last November’s Public Service Commission elections which, as I explained at the time, focused almost exclusively on data center development. I’ve been hearing from some of you that you want to hear more about how and why opposition to these projects has become so entrenched so quickly. Connie argues it’s because data centers are a multi-hit combo of issues at the top of voters’ minds right now.
The following conversation has been lightly edited for clarity.
So to start off Connie, how did we get here? What’s the tale of the tape on how data centers became a statewide election issue?
This has been about a year and a half-long evolution to where we are now. I started with GCV in about June of 2024 and I worked both the electoral and political sides. That meant I was working with PSC candidates.
People in other states have been dealing with data centers longer than we have and we’ve been taking our learnings from what they’ve been dealing with. We’ve been fortunate to be able to have them as resources.
There has been a coalition that has developed nationally and we have several groups that have developed within that coalition space who have helped us develop our site fight organizing, policy guidebooks, and legislative resources. It has been a tremendous assist to what we’re doing on the ground, because this is an ever-evolving situation. Almost like dealing with a virus or bacteria because it keeps mutating; as soon as you develop a tactic, the data centers react to that and you have to pivot, think of something else, and come up with a new strategy or tactic.
That’s been the last year and a half from the past summer to now. We worked on the Public Service Commission, flipping two seats this past legislative session. Now we have two more seats on the PSC looming in this next electoral year.
The next question I would ask is related to the role you view data centers will play in the coming election. Why do you think data centers are coming up? Help me understand what it is about data centers that has turned it into a potent political subject?
Georgia was in a really unique position in 2025 to have data centers at the forefront of the election. They were the only thing state-wide on the ballot because the PSC election was the only thing on the ballot. For the most part, Georgia has set up what is unique to Georgia: districted seats that the entire state can vote on. You have to live in the district to run for it but the entire state votes on it. And that meant we could message to the entire state what the PSC was, why it was important, and how it was going to affect people. Once you did that you were inevitably talking about data centers because that messaging became focused on affordability.
Once people understand what a PSC commissioner is, they know they regulate what you pay on your utility bill. If your bills are too high now, because the current PSC commissioners raised your rates six times in the past two years, there are more rate hikes looming in the future because of data centers. This is what’s coming.
Those were dots that were very easy for voters to connect.
We also had in the background and then the foreground data centers coming to people’s communities. Suddenly, random people were educated. They knew about closed-loop versus open-loop systems. They were asking questions suddenly about where water was coming from and why they didn’t know about these projects before they’re at the next local commission meeting. They’re telling me its only 50 decibels of noise. Are they going to cause cancer? The number of questions were tremendous and extremely sophisticated. People had been hearing about them, reading about them, and were knowledgeable until they connected all the dots.
You’re bringing up a really important phenomenon that, I’ll say, I’ve noticed when it comes to renewable energy projects and the opposition to projects: the populism I’ve seen in communities I’ve covered for the last year and a half here at Heatmap. So as someone who is trying to communicate against data center development but still trying to promote renewable energy, how do you walk that tightrope from a canvassing standpoint?
It’s a good question. Data centers are already coming. How we talk about data centers is, if they’re going to be here they need to be good neighbors.
We have made it open season here in Georgia. We left our credit card on the counter and said don’t do anything stupid only for us to come home and see there’s nothing left. What did you expect? There’s tax incentives for the data centers, there are no ordinances, they’ve allowed them to use our resources. They’ve come here because of our resources and our land and our access to fiber optics. Until we wrap our arms around it and put up some safeguards, and create rules for our teenagers when we go on Spring Break, then we can’t get a handle on how many of these are even going to be here and how much energy will be needed to power them.
We need to make limits. If you want incentives, okay – 30% of it needs to be green. If you want to build in a community, then okay – part of a CBA means you have to put up solar. They can be clean but we have to get a handle on protecting our resources, protecting the land and protecting our communities.
Do you see a change in the near-term when it comes to bringing data center development towards what you’d like to see, as opposed to just outright moratoria? Where is this opposition movement heading in Georgia?
We are just in the beginning phases of this. We see a lot of local opposition to data centers – 900 people coming out to county commissions. Like, we’re seeing unprecedented numbers.
What’s important is that power still rests with the elected officials. Unless they’re scared of losing power, it’s hard to actually change the rules. I think this state legislative session is going to be really important–
So how involved do you get at the local level on these data center fights?
So, those elected officials are on different schedules but people are showing up to meetings. We’re currently helping them organize and showing them best practices.
Now, I can’t dictate their messaging for them, because that’s county by county and the best people to do that are the people who live there, but we help coach them, tell them to pick a personal story, say how to show up, and wear bright-colored shirts. We have an entire tool kit that shows them the ABCs and 123s of organizing. What has worked in the past from other groups around the country for other groups to fight back.
But each county is different. Some counties may need the tax revenue. There’s a chance you may need one. So we say Georgians need to value Georgia and their resources need to be protected. We say, you need a solid community benefits agreement, this is what you should ask for and you need a lawyer.
Our position here is to help them get the resources and get connected. We pull from a lot of different sources and places who have been in this fight a lot longer.